Cold and the Dark
by Mama Link
Summary: Probably a collection of dumb little oneshots/drabbles. o u o
1. Chapter 1

**Totally OOC and really long, I'm really sorry ; - ;**

 **Jack Frost and Pitch Black belong to Dreamworks!**

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The midnight blue sky was dotted with arches of clear frost, the moon — a bright, glowing plate on a midnight blue table — coated everything with an otherwordly veil of light. The tree the Nightmare King had been leaning against was encased with ice, seeming to be a delicate creation under glass; the opalescent snow like crushed diamonds. The pond nearby was so charming; frozen at its banks into lacy ice patterns, but otherwise clear, and he found it.. astounding it had yet to freeze over.

Considering it was evident that the boy had been here. If he ever showed, Pitch would admit he was quite pleased with his work this time around. Perhaps it would give him a swollen ego..

Pitch couldn't comprehend what was so bothersome about him. Was it his pallid hair? His cobalt eyes? Or was it just him overall? Was it even his smooth, rose-tinged ivory skin?

He assumed he would never receive an answer. Abrupt wind truculently nipped and bit at his exposed skin, with more snow drifting like miniature kisses from the dark heavens. It was enough of a signal for him to conceal himself from sight; backing behind the tree. As long extremities brushed the ice, frost began to film over his fingertips.  
When the boy's hood dropped, ice clung to his hair, frost dusted his cheeks, and snow coated his clothing. A smile graced his lips, and, as a svelte hand coursed through his hair, the ice melted. In his opposite hand, was his wooden staff. The Boogeyman swore he had deliberately fractured it in half, but decided not to question it.

He was near to call out to the winter spirit, but ceased, when Jack stepped forward. When his foot brushed the water, ice spread out, like lacy flowers, providing the boy a solid ground to walk on. When he was in the center of the frozen pond, he merely.. stayed there. His cobalt eyes blankly stared forward, and he came close to shrieking when the Nightmare King's voice called out.

"Jack."

The spirit looked over his shoulder; the moonlight settling on him, and it backlit his hair. The expression of fear washed away, replaced with a smile.

"Pitch! I didn't know you were here. What are you up to?"

Pitch lifted his shoulders, then slumped them. He stepped from his location, out into the open. By now, Jack had completely turned around; an expression that Pitch could describe as… pleased, written on his face. His sylphlike frame had stepped off of the pond, and was now several inches away from the Nightmare King.

"What on earth do you think?"

"I'll assume scaring people, since we both know you scared me. I could feel your ego swelling with unhidden pride all the way over there!"

Pitch responded with a playful smack to the side of Jack's head, his laughter like church bells. His laughter waned away, and his face was now painted with a curious stare. An amused look crossed the Nightmare King's face as he crouched to Jack's height (which was actually quite short), where he then duplicated the expression. "What are you looking at now, Jack?" he queried.

"Your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"They're so.. so.. lovely! There's just a hint of gold around your pupils, with the iris, like a… platinum colour."

Jack began to trip and stumble over his words; apologising for seeming so self-conscious, so awkward. He peeped when two masculine hands grabbed his face, the eyes he was just examining now examining his own. The winter spirit's deep blue eyes reminded him of cobalt glass, and the Boogeyman smiled a legitimate smile.

"Well. It seems like your eyes are quite charming, as well. If only the rest of you was like that."

Pitch smirked as Jack began to protest, seeming like an annoyed kitten; glaring at the other man as he stood. He even brought out a laugh as the smaller boy tried to jump up, and slap the side of his head, but missing by inches.

Perhaps he'd let Jack go nightmare-free tonight.

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 **R &R? o u o**


	2. Teeth

Something landed in the willowly palm of a ghastly coloured hand. Pitch brought it between his index finger and thumb; platinum eyes narrowed as he examined it.

"A quarter?"

He _did_ see the Tooth Fairy's arm pulled back, yes..

… but he _didn't_ foretell a haze of blue and a cloud of ice dust rushing in front of him; prepared to receive the hit.

It was almost like time itself had turned sluggish. The Bogeyman saw Tooth's usually sweet face register in horror, at the realisation of what had just occurred, as did the other three — and Pitch was quite sure his had done the same.

A snowy white molar skidded several inches away from the boy as he landed on the ice of the pond, his staff clattering near him. He groaned as he landed; a cold hand pressed up against his jaw. The winter spirit's azure eyes darted from each of the Guardians, to Pitch, then his tooth, lying nearby. Tooth's svelte hands were pressed against her mouth, North cursed in Russian, and the other three remained.. hushed, even as they observed Jack sitting up; gingerly touching the hole, and examining his finger when he retracted it. Tooth was the only one who chose to speak.

"Jack! Oh my gosh, I'm _so_ sorry. I-I didn't.."

They merely watched Jack's tongue play with the new hole in the backline of his molars. He spat a splash of red out, where it unintentionally landed underneath the fairy, who gasped, and retreated several inches.

What clouded Pitch's mind, was one question: why had he received the blow for him?

Nobody uttered a word — it didn't even seem like anyone breathed — as Jack slowly rose to his feet. With a small smile, he moved over to Pitch, seizing the quarter out from between his fingertips.

"I believe this is mine."


	3. Helleborus

**dude if anyone reads this you can ask for prompts-**

 **Don't be shy! c: I don't bite fingers off or anything**

 **I own absolutely nothing (same goes for the other chapter because I fORGOT TO PUT THAT-)!**

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It was pretty evident that the boy was here: the pond was frozen over, and the powdery, crystalline diamonds were piled in great heaps. A soft breeze drifted through the woods, chilling the air. Through the dead trees, the Bogeyman could observe the arctic blue sky; not a cloud in sight. The sound of rustling branches and leaves reached Pitch's ears.

A haze of blue and brown appeared out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, I haven't the faintest idea of who _that_ could be."

"Aw, you _love_ having me around and you know it, Pitch. You're just too nervous to admit it," Jack responded, hanging himself upside down on a tree branch. His face was coloured a lovely pink, and, as the Nightmare King stepped closer, he could see a small sprinkle of freckles across his nose.

His eyes reminded him dearly of cobalt glass, and that fact made Pitch smile.

"You should be more cautious, hanging on a tree branch like that," the Bogeyman warned, and tilted his head to the side.

"I'll be fine! It should be able to support my weight."

The winter spirit (surprisingly!) quietly watched the other man crouch down to his height; his face level with his. The boy was quite cute looking upside down, and the Nightmare King made a mental note to do something cute for the spirit as Jack leaned forward, gently kissing Pitch's peculiar nose. A small film of frost formed, and he heard Jack giggle as the Bogeyman's face heated up.

"I didn't know you could b—"

Jack was abruptly cut off as the tree branch broke, and he fell into the thick pile of snow that was previously beneath him. He heard the other man laugh at him, and Pitch smiled down at the young boy as he struggled to get up.

"No, no. Stay there. I have an idea."

"If _you_ have an idea, I have a feeling I should be scared."

One willowy hand pressed Jack back down, and the boy silently watched Pitch lay beside him — who didn't complain about the snow ruining his precious outfit. His ghastly coloured hand scooped up the tiniest bit of snow, and, holding it above Jack, he began to lightly sprinkle it on his pale face. Snowflakes clung to his already pallid lashes, like little star-shaped clumps. The boy's giggles reminded Pitch of wind chimes, and, even in his dark as hell heart, he felt a bit of affection flare.

A large hand abruptly grabbed his own, but Jack didn't mind, and allowed the small gesture. It was when Pitch spoke that his breath hitched in his throat, and he felt his face turn a darker shade of red.

"You know what, Jack? I do appreciate your company. I.."

The word sounded so foreign in his mouth, and it took him several tries to be able to spit it out.

"… I _love_ having you around."

Seeing Jack turn his head to look at him, and seeing how pink his face was, allowed Pitch to duplicate the same smile — and, suddenly, Pitch didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.


End file.
